


Hands to yourself

by TonyStarkish



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Steve Rogers, WW2 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:36:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyStarkish/pseuds/TonyStarkish
Summary: It's the middle of the world war, and as Tony Stark fights behind enemy lines as a spy, Steve Rogers is working on the front as Captain America. It's difficult to maintain a relationship- not only between two men, but two men who are often on different sides of the Atlantic. But they make it work. And Steve wouldn't lose that for anything.They do, on occasion, manage to cross paths, however. And let it be known- Steve doesn't share his toys.





	Hands to yourself

It was just a mission.

That’s what Steve kept telling himself, as he watched Tony saunter around in the underground bar, his Army uniform turning the heads of men and women alike. He walked like he owned the room- hence the reason why he’d been chosen, Steve supposed. He could get the information. That’s what he was good at.

And in the middle of a war, Steve couldn’t really get upset about people staring at his fella for a moment too long.

He frowned into his bottle of beer, watching Tony from across the room and keeping a face on him that assured no one would go near him. He wasn’t even supposed to be there at all- but God, Steve had been working on the front for months, and Tony had been spending the last few weeks stationed in Berlin as a spy, and he hadn’t seen the man in what felt like forever. It was rare they got time, and damned if Steve would miss out on a chance. Any chance.

The place they were in was your average gay bar- full of all sorts of folks looking for all different types of things. Steve was used to them- he’d spent most of his Saturday nights in places like these, and knew his way around them like the back of his hand. And Tony, with his uniform and his charming smiles and general stunning beauty- he’d be the hit of the night. He’d attract pretty much all of them. And that was the plan, because Intel had informed them that the woman they were after came here on Fridays, and so hopefully Tony would be able to get something from her before HYDRA’s plans went ahead. They’d been fighting a back-and-forth for almost a year now, with the allies defeating one plan, and then HYDRA coming up with another almost instantly after. It was exhausting, but Steve knew it had to stop somewhere. One day they’d pull the thread that loosened the whole piece, and they’d fall. He knew it.

For now, though, he’d just have to sit tight and let Tony get on with it.

He called for another drink and then nodded gruffly when it slid over to him. In his ears, the lively music was ringing, and he could see the glittery reflection all the showgirls’ dresses as they kicked out their legs and danced raunchily. His thoughts drifted to the last time he’d been to one of these places- with Tony, incidentally. Both of them had gotten far too drunk, laughed far too loudly, and then Tony had dragged him back home and methodically removed him of all his clothes before sitting down onto his lap and riding his cock until they’d collapsed in a drunken, blissed-out heap.

That had been a good night.

He picked absently at the wrapper of his beer, head turning to scan the room once more. They still had no sight of the target, and Steve was beginning to grow impatient. He was already in a bad mood just from the situation, and now it turned out their target may not even show up in the damned place-

He spotted Tony again, this time in the corner of the room, looking up at a man as he leaned in and whispered something into the dark curls atop Tony’s head, lips brushing the skin of Tony's temple as he spoke. It was intentional and provocative, and Steve couldn’t see where the man’s other hand was behind Tony’s back, but he guessed it wasn’t anywhere a gentleman should ever put his hands upon the first meeting.

 

Nope, he decided suddenly. Nope, he was done with this.

 

Setting the beer down with an angry slam, he lifted off his stool and strode across the room, not bothering to apologize when he pushed past people. All he could see was that asshole with his hands all over Tony, _Steve’s_ Tony, and that wasn’t going to stand. Fuck the goddamn Operation, this wasn’t even the target. This was just some handsy jerk.

Tony spotted him out of the corner of his eye, and after a second his whole head turned, slightly curious as he took in Steve’s determined march. He opened his mouth, but Steve didn’t let him speak- simply shot the asshole a menacing growl, shoved his hand off Tony’s lower back, and then moved into the space that the man had just been forcibly removed from.

“Have a pleasant evening,” Steve said tightly, looking over his shoulder and glaring so hard at the face in front of him that he thought he was going to pull a muscle in his eyebrow.

For a moment, it almost looked as if the man was going to fight back. But something must have shown on his face, because after a moment he just lifted his hands and backed off. Steve didn’t miss the wink he shot Tony on his way out, though, and it only succeeded in riling him up further.

Tony looked up at him. “Steve?”

“With me,” he said sharply, “now.” And before Tony could respond, Steve’s hand was curling around his wrist, tugging him back through the crowds of people. Tony seemed confused, but didn’t actually ask any more questions- just followed Steve blindly. A part of him was pleased about that: the blind faith and trust in that action spoke more than it really should have done.

But the bigger part of him was focused on something else. Something a little less decent.

He pulled Tony into the quieter corridor and then looked around until he found a door. It was the coat closet, but really, only about ten people even used the damn thing, so it was mostly just empty. Turning around to Tony, he only smiled once, quick and sharp, before shoving him inside and following, slamming the door shut behind him.

Tony was looking at him, cheeks beginning to go a little red as he stared up at Steve. “You didn’t like that back there, did you?” He asked softly, delicately, his voice so warm and full and _God_ , Steve had missed him.

He stepped forward, put a hand out and pushed against Tony’s chest until he hit the wall with a thump. Tony was looking up at him, eyes sparkling, and Steve glared back down, their noses only millimeters away. “I don’t like them touching what isn’t theirs to touch,” he muttered in reply, the hand on his chest wrapping around Tony’s tie, the other falling low and resting over the small of Tony’s back. His fingers dipped under the belt of Tony’s slacks, and almost instinctively Tony’s breath hitched the tiniest bit. He was weak to any and every one of Steve’s touches.

Spy and inventor and rebel and genius Tony Stark might be, but one thing that would never change was that he was unequivocally _Steve’s_.

“I want your clothes off,” he said, no room for argument in his voice, “now.”

Tony just cocked an eyebrow, but Steve didn’t miss how his heart rate fluttered under Steve’s fingers. “We’re really going to do this in public?” He whispered, his voice delicious and wicked.

“As if you care,” Steve snorted, before suddenly tightening his grip on Tony’s tie and drawing him in by it, until his mouth was brushing against Tony’s ear. “Now get your fucking clothes off, or I’m ripping them off, and you’ll have to explain to your superiors as to why your lovely pristine uniform got torn to shreds and you had to walk around New York half-naked.”

By the look on Tony’s face, he didn’t seem to care much about that threat at all, but he nodded once and swallowed, before going for his pants and quickly unbuckling his belt. He shucked off his slacks rapidly until he was naked from the waist down, giving Steve a beautiful view of what he’d been missing for the past four months. “God, you really look like you could use a hard fuck,” he noted absently, one hand trailing across Tony’s hips as he pretty much ripped his shirt off his body and then gasped. He was already rock-hard, and Steve was right- Tony had obviously been waiting just as long as Steve had.

“Fucking missed this,” Tony muttered as he stepped forward and pressed his mouth into Steve’s neck, licked a stripe across the line of his throat, “missed you, so much-“ his hands went to Steve’s shirt, managed to unbutton the first few before Steve gripped his wrist and shook his head.

“No, no, not yet, I don’t think,” Steve murmured softly, and his hand had yet to relinquish its grip on Tony’s tie, now the only thing he wore- “maybe later, I’ll give you what you want- fuck you so hard you scream, and can’t walk right for days-“ Tony moaned softly, eyes falling shut as he pressed another sloppy kiss across Steve’s Adam’s apple. “But for now, we’re doing things my way. Understand?”

When Tony didn’t answer, Steve wrapped his hand tighter around the tie on Tony’s throat. “I asked a question, sweetheart,” he repeated softly.

Tony gasped, and he was already rutting against Steve, so fucking desperate- “your way, your way is fine,” he choked out, before Steve relaxed his hold and Tony fell into Steve’s neck, breathing hard.

Steve let him have a moment, before he curled his hand around Tony’s jaw and lifted gently. Tony was beautiful close-up; Steve could see the freckles on his nose, the hot blush of arousal on his face.

“The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh, understand?”

Tony looked up at him, his face agonized. “Steve, no, I need you, I need you now, inside-“

Steve growled, pushing him up against the wall and then crowding into him. He squeezed the tie again, pulling upward and exposing his neck. “Where are your manners, darling?” He asked sweetly, teeth scraping against Tony’s bared throat and then feeling the whimpers vibrate across his lips. “I told you- my way or not at all. So you come how I tell you to come, or you go back out there and you think about it for the next five hours until we get home. What would you rather?”

Tony moaned, eyes rolling- and then a moment later, he started to rub up and down against the knee Steve had pushed between his legs. Steve smiled. “Good choice, angel,” he said, watching Tony as his hands explored Steve’s clothes, wandered over his stomach as they curled under his shirt. He was making the most wonderful sounds; frantic and needy and amazing. “God, you’re beautiful like this. So fucking desperate. You want it so bad, don’t you?”

Tony just nodded, grinding down faster. Steve could see the sweat begin to glisten on his shoulders. “No idea, no idea how much I missed you when you were out there, Steve, wanted you so much, all the time-“

“Well, I’m here now.” Steve sunk his head low, beginning to suck a mark into Tony’s neck that was well above the collar. He dropped the tie in favour of instead fisting his hand into Tony’s thick hair, tugging it upward sharply and then smiling as it pulled another groan from Tony. “And I mean what I said. When we get home, I’m fucking you so hard you feel it for _weeks_. You’ll remember it the next time I see you.” He bit down, hard, on the mark he had just sucked, and felt Tony press into him further, his bare skin rubbing up against Steve’s clothes. After a moment, he spotted Tony’s hand moving downward, but he snapped out and held it against the wall before Tony could reach his own dick.

“What did I tell you?” Steve hissed, and his hand trailed down from Tony’s hair to his jaw, down to his neck. His palm was big enough to fit around the entirety of Tony’s throat, and as the other man leaned back, he squeezed, too hard to be gentle and too gentle to be hard. It made Tony gasp and rut harder. “You come from me, or you don’t come at all.”

Tony’s movement was becoming more and more erratic, and as Steve bent low and hoisted him up, against the wall, licking a strip from his chest to the top of his jaw, he groaned loud enough that Steve wondered whether the people outside would hear. Whether they'd know what Steve was doing to him in here.

Good. He hoped they would. Maybe then they’d get the message that Tony was off the table.

“You’re gonna walk out of here a mess,” Steve whispered, tugging at Tony’s bottom lip with his teeth. “You’re gonna look like some second-rate whore who got fucked out in the bathroom. Your hair, your beautiful mouth, your neck- it’s all gonna show that someone else got there before they did.”

Tony gasped, moving even faster. His hands were pulling on Steve’s hair. “God, yes, they most certainly did, only one, the only one-“

“Exactly,” Steve nodded, pleased, pulling Tony down by the now-crumpled tie on his neck and sealing the mouths together, hot and wet and sloppy, licking into Tony’s mouth. “You’ll smell like me. Taste like me. Be thinkin’ of me, the whole rest of the night. Your pretty little uniform will be crumpled, and when you come, you can clean up with your dress shirt.”

Tony hissed. “Jesus, Steve-“

“Because you’re _mine_ ,” Steve growled, and when he dropped Tony suddenly, it was only him bracing his arms against the wall that stopped Tony falling sideways. “You’re mine, and _none_ of them get to fucking touch you like that. None of them. I want all of them to know that. And if you need to smell like sex and sweat and me for them to get the fuckin’ message, then I’m happy to oblige.” That being said, he dropped quickly to his knees, and took Tony into his mouth before the man could even form another coherent sentence.

Tony yelled out in shock, head thumping against the wall. Naked and hot and panting, he was so fucking beautiful. He didn’t belong in the army- he belonged in a gallery with all of the world’s other prettiest designs. And Steve knew that was partly his own constant worry about Tony’s wellbeing slipping through, but still. He could dream that Tony was safe and cherished and admired all day. One day, when the war was over- when they got to go home together and live out their lives- that dream would be real. Steve knew without a second of hesitation that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Tony, doting on him, loving him wholly and truly. Even if they could never tell the world in the way that Steve so often wished he could, it was fine. He didn’t need the world, not when Tony was right there.

It took Tony another five seconds to come, and Steve kept his eyes fixed on Tony’s as he swallowed all of it down.

Tony sagged once he had finished, and he slowly sunk down to Steve’s level, eyes shut. His hair was indeed a mess, some of the strands sticking to the sweat on his forehead. Naked in a coat closet- it felt sort of surreal, and not something Steve would even have considered less than an hour ago. Although now he’d done it, he wouldn’t mind a repeat performance. Tony looked so good when he was trying to keep quiet- biting his lip and squeezing his eyes tight shut, trying to make sure no one heard. It was beautiful.

Steve smiled, leaning forward and brushing the hair away from Tony’s forehead. “Next time, I’m making you beg for it.”

Tony cracked an eye open, huffing out. “You’re a fucking tease,” he breathed, before leaning forward and sealing their mouths together. He tasted familiar, like coffee and home.

“I love you,” Steve murmured against his mouth, leaning up and crowding Tony’s body as it slumped against the wall. “I love you, and the next time someone touches you like that again, I’m throwing them through a fucking wall.”

He reached down, grabbing Tony’s shirt and then slowly buttoning it back onto his body. It clung to him where the sweat had pooled, and was creased from where it had been dropped. His tie was a mess, and so was his neck, still shining from where Steve had licked.

He looked like he’d already been fucked, which made Steve feel rather proud. He wanted to see what Tony looked like when they got home, and he was spread out on the bed in front of him, aching and desperate for Steve to be inside him, his head tilted to the ceiling and his mouth in a beautiful 'o' as he cried out. Jesus, the thought alone made his dick twitch in anticipation. And hard though he was now, he didn’t want to spend more time in here. He could wait for a while. Or, at least, as long as it took for Tony’s resolve to crumble and make him drag Steve home as they tried to not make out in plain sight.

When Tony stood again, five minutes later, they both walked out together with Steve’s hand around his waist. Everyone stared: there was no doubt about who Tony belonged to, or what he’d just been doing.

Steve was absolutely fine with that.

 

(For the record, Tony lasted another five minutes before grabbing Steve’s hand and dragging them off.   
Steve would have to tell Fury the mission was unsuccessful. Target didn’t show up anyway.)


End file.
